Chapter 1: mean yoongi

I hate my life, is all Jimin can conjure in his mind as he stares at the assignment on his table. If his jaw is hanging any wider, it will be on the floor.

Jimin wishes he can dig a hole, crawl into it and hide there forever.

What have I done to deserve this? There’s a big, red ‘F’ on his paper as well as a ‘See me after class’ scribbled messily across his pathetic score, a score his mother will definitely not be proud of. The numbers are written in bright red ink as well, as if taunting him.

15/100.

Jimin wants to cry.

He looks up from his essay and his vision lands on the small man in front of the lecture theatre, who is now rambling about word choice. When Jimin first saw him, he thought he looked pretty cute for a professor, with his blonde hair and tight jeans. He is also one of the few people who can actually look cute in glasses.

Another plus point? He does not have to look up when speaking to Mr. Min, and that makes Jimin feel like an equal, that they could actually be friends.

However, three months after meeting him, Jimin can safely say that Min Yoongi (or Mean Yoongi as he likes to call him when speaking to Jungkook) is more like the human embodiment of rage. Even though he looks fifteen, he sounds like he’s fifty, especially when he tries to crack a joke in class which everybody, except Jimin, thinks is funny. Even though he seems like an angel from the heavens, Jimin is convinced that he is actually a devil sent from Hell to punish him for that one time in high school he cheated on a Math test.

It wasn’t even my fault, Jimin thinks, Jungkook forced me to go on a date with his cousin Minah the day before the test. I couldn’t study at all.

Jimin feels that he is being punished enough for he has never once scored above a B on his English assignments ever since Min Yoongi stepped foot into his life. He cannot wait to get out of this school and throw his certificate in the older man’s face. The thought of it brings a smile to his face and before he realizes it, Jimin lets out a soft chuckle.

“Park Jimin, before you laugh at whatever sick joke that is in your head, I suggest you focus, or the next thing I will be laughing at is your grades,” Yoongi warns as he glares at the red-haired boy, his lips thinning into a frown.

Jimin almost jumps at the interruption and upon hearing what he said, scowls and rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he mumbles under his breath before leaning against his seat and crossing his arms, pretending to listen to whatever Yoongi has to say.

The bell rings after what feels like eternity and Jimin yawns loudly, stretching his rigid limbs and cracking his knuckles. He chucks his assignment in his backpack, his eyes briefly hovering over the red words on it before sighing and standing up.

“Park Jimin, see me,” Yoongi says and signals for Jimin to go over.

“I know,” Jimin replies and shuffles to the front of the room with his bag slung lazily over his shoulder. He ruffles his brightly dyed hair and inhales deeply.

“What happened?” Yoongi deadpans, as if he is forced to care about the boy’s grades. Honestly, Jimin could not care less.

“I was helping my mum out at the bakery. It was a hectic day, you know,” Jimin lies and pretends to sound guilty, impressed by his own acting.

Yoongi raises his brow and fold his arms across his chest. “Really?”

Damn, why does he look so attractive in a black turtleneck? Jimin shakes his head to clear his thoughts, his cheeks coloured the slightest tinge of pink. That’s not the time to think about this, Park Jimin. “Ye-yeah really. I’m sure. I swear,” Jimin grins sheepishly and gives Yoongi the worst puppy eye in the history of all puppy eyes. Yoongi sighs.

“Fine, but I expect you to submit a new essay next week. If you don’t at least pass, I’ll have to do something about you. Understood?” Jimin nods and bows.  “See you then,” Yoongi says and waves him away. Jimin bows his head slightly and rushes out of the room, his blood boiling and his fists clenched tightly.

I hate you Min Yoongi, I really do.

As he turns the corner, he spots a familiar figure waiting by the stairs, his fingers tapping angrily on his phone screen and his eyes squinted in concentration. Jimin smiles fondly and runs over before smacking his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Good afternoon!” he greets chirpily.

“What the f-” the boy screams but pauses mid-sentence when he sees Jimin, “I was going to beat my high score, you idiot!” Jimin peers over and sees black and white tiles on the screen. He breaks out into a loud laugh.

“It’s hyung to you, show some respect,” Jimin ruffles the taller boy’s hair adoringly and links their arms together, “let’s go back!”

Jungkook huffs in annoyance and keeps his phone away. “I hate you,” he mumbles loud enough for Jimin to hear, but a small smile creeps onto his face, betraying his actual feelings.

“I love you so much,” Jimin coos and clings tighter onto Jungkook, earning a scowl from the latter.

“Why are you so happy today? You killed your English professor? Min Hyunie or something?”

Letting out another loud laugh, Jimin fishes out his assignment and shoves it into Jungkook’s chest,his face red with laughter. Jungkook looks at the paper and laughs along with him. “You’re so stupid!”

“Says the person who scored 4/100 for his English test!” Jimin retorts and tackles Jungkook, almost causing both of them to fall over.

“You shouldn’t have asked me for help, you know I’m the worst at English,” Jungkook shrugs.

Jimin shakes his head. How could he blame his best friend?

“It’s not your fault. It’s because of that green-haired monster. He secretly hates me and guess what? I hate him too. I hate him for making me rewrite the paper. I hate him for depriving me of my Harry Potter movie marathon I had already planned. I hate Min Yoongi!” Jimin shouts and throws back his head in frustration.

At that moment, a certain professor who was returning to his office happened to hear that last sentence. He recognises that particular voice immediately.

Jimin feels a sharp tap on his shoulder and scowls. “Excuse me-” he shoots while spinning around. However, his voice dies down as he realises who tapped his shoulder.

“Park Jimin,” Jimin can hear the bubbling anger in his voice, “see me.”

Jimin gulps not once, not twice, but repeatedly.  I hate my life, is all Jimin can think of as he shuffles behind his professor, head hanging low and fingers crossed tightly. 

*a/n: thank you for reading, i hope this did not disappoint!